


Of Chimeras and other beasts

by olympia_m



Series: Between two places [16]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series, 闇の末裔 | Yami No Matsuei | Descendants of Darkness
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 15:10:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11923512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olympia_m/pseuds/olympia_m
Summary: Feilong thinks that Oriya's visits at Hong Kong are vacation; Oriya begs to differ.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, there was a soundtrack at the back of my head while writing this, and pieces are mentioned or referenced in the story. As for the story, it's another self-indulgent fic where the characters hold on to illusions.

The first thing Oriya did whenever he arrived at Feilong’s building was burn some joss sticks and pour some sake on the ground. It was important to acknowledge Feilong’s guardian spirits. The first time he’d visited, he hadn’t, and they had been most displeased with him. His cat stood with hairs on edge as they appeared, first the male one, and then the female. When they started sniffing them, she hissed. 

“Quiet,” Oriya told her, smiling. He knew she felt responsible for him, as his protector, but really. 

The female lion stared him. Oriya bowed his head, and she turned her attention to the wine. 

The male lion blinked at his cat. It stretched and rubbed his head on Oriya’s leg. His cat relaxed, and rubbed herself against the lion’s leg. They moved around each other for a while, until the male decided to have a drink. 

Oriya picked up his cat. “You’re so brave,” he told her, scratching her head gently. She rubbed her head on his chest. 

“I will do my best,” he promised the guardians. 

The female looked at him. “I expect no less of you.”

“Guarding Feilong-dono is our duty, though. You need not worry,” the male told him, laughter in his tone. 

“Thank you for your hard work,” Oriya told them with another bow.

The female dismissed him, lapping the sake delicately. 

“Next time, bring some plum wine,” the male said before vanishing back into the building. 

Oriya smiled. Their low, rumbling voices always made his cat tremble and cling on his with small, sharp claws he could feel even through his clothes. “They’re just big cats,” he told his cat, petting her, trying to relax her. 

He moved away from the circle the lions had drawn on his first visit to mark where he should give his offerings. As usual, Feilong’s mortal guards, blinked. Whatever magic had been keeping them blind and deaf to Oriya’s actions was dispelled. He suspected that circle was a portal to another dimension, but he couldn’t discuss this either with Muraki or Akane-san. Muraki would want to exploit it and Akane-san would tell him not to bother with things he wouldn’t master. 

He approached the door. “Chen, Wu,” he smiled and bowed his head acknowledging Feilong’s mortal guards. “Thank you for your hard work,” he said seriously, giving them a box of sweets. Then he grinned. “It’s that time of the month,” he winked, knowing very well that most of Feilong’s men thought him a nuisance, including the two in front of him. 

Wu looked away, strangely embarrassed. 

Chen opened the door for him, stone-faced as always. 

“How can he travel with a cat without a carrier?” Wu muttered behind him. 

“Private plane?”

Oriya smiled to his cat. “I’m causing such problems everywhere I go.”

&*&*

The next thing he always did was check that all the wards that Akane-san had placed were intact. They shimmered when he touched them with his fingertips, and made him tingle. Feilong was in enough danger because of who he was; he didn’t need trouble from things he didn’t even believe in. He smiled, as he stepped on the last ward and felt a tiny jolt of power. All was good. 

“I’m so glad,” he whispered to his cat.

She purred and butted his head. 

“Yes, we’re going in now. No more wards, so you have to be extra vigilant,” he whispered too low for the guards to hear him, and kissed her head. She liked being responsible for him. “Thank you, Xie,” he said to the guard that opened the door for him, ignoring how he stared.

Most of Feilong’s men thought he was weird, but put up with him for their Boss’ sake. The others waited for the Boss to move on so they could fuck him. Even without his still-new-to-him sensitivity he would have been able to feel both unwelcome and lusted after. Coming to Feilong’s house was almost as bad as going to his father’s house, where everyone expected him to finally relieve the Old Master of all his duties. 

Smile firmly on his face, he gave the cat to Tao. 

“Hello, little cat,” Tao grinned, hugging her. “You’re so soft,” he smiled as he started stroking her fur. “So very soft.” Tao smiled at him. “Fei-sama is at a meeting. Would you like some tea while you wait?”

“No, if he’s in a meeting that means I’ll wait long, right?”

Tao looked away. “Probably. If he knew Oriya-sama was coming, he wouldn’t have arranged it.” Tao was more annoyed with him than usual. 

Oriya stroked Tao’s hair. “I’m sorry that I never know much in advance when I can free my schedule.”

Tao moved away, annoyed. I’m not a child. “But Fei-sama says you don’t even work that much,” Tao blurted. “It upsets Fei-sama that you show up whenever.”

Oriya shrugged. “It upsets me too, but I have many important meetings.” 

“Still, this is not a hotel,” Tao huffed. “Take some responsibility,” he said haughtily as he walked towards the guest room that Oriya used as storage room. He opened the door for him.

Oriya pushed his hair back. Tao had a point. He followed Tao and put down his suitcase. “Tao?”

Tao looked inside the room.

“Since Feilong is in a meeting I’ll go for a walk.”

Tao rolled his eyes. You do whatever you want, and you don’t care if it hurts Fei-sama, Tao thought annoyed, but held his tongue. “I’ll tell that to Fei-sama. Enjoy your walk.”

“Do you want to join me? Maybe show me around the city you know so well?”

Tao narrowed his eyes. “I have work to do,” he said after a moment. You didn’t see Fei-sama wait, he thought angrily, as he always did whenever Oriya visited. But this was the first time Oriya caught a glimpse of Feilong from Tao’s memories, elegant yet listless, staring out at his city, quiet, very quiet.

He was selfish, yes, but… Tao was looking at him, daring him to speak. Whatever he said would be an excuse in Tao’s opinion. “I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I’ll be back later. 

Tao shrugged. “I’ll let Fei-sama know,” he repeated. 

“Thank you.” He scratched his cat’s neck. “Be good with Tao, little one.”

Oriya let his smile fall when he was away from Feilong’s building. He was selfish, and he relied on Feilong a lot, but… there really were no excuses for how he behaved sometimes. Oh, well, he’d just have to try harder, right? He smiled and continued with the next thing on his list of things to do whenever he visited Feilong.

&*&*

Item number three was visiting the cemetery. Several of Muraki’s victims had been laid to rest there. He used to pray for them collectively back in Kyoto, but at Hong Kong, he had no excuse. 

He cleaned each grave, put fresh flowers in the vases, lit candles and joss sticks, burned paper money for them. He knew it didn’t matter; he knew they didn’t need any of these in the next world. But it gave him something to do. Something to feel less guilty about. He never did enough for anyone. 

When he was done, he sat near the gate and let the wandering spirits gather near him. He usually found them troublesome, but here, he thought it was the least he could do. He couldn’t understand much when they spoke; some spoke too fast, some in dialects or foreign tongues. But he could feel their confusion at their being dead, their regret of things left unsaid, their anger at those whom they hated still, their desire for their loved ones.

“I think a few might be willing to follow you, Shinigami-san.”

“Thank you for bringing them to me,” the death god said. 

Oriya looked at him. It wasn’t one he recognized. A tall, handsome man with a braid that reached to his waist. “You could have found them yourself. I keep telling you, just come and wait by the gate.”

The death god laughed. “Hasn’t anyone told you that the dead prefer the living? It is more difficult for us to find a lost soul than for you.”

“Excuses.” He opened his eyes as the death god took the soul of a little boy in his hand. 

“You should do this in Japan too. The Japanese division has alerted us. Your friend,” the death god’s mouth curled in distaste at the word, “has started killing again. There are several souls missing, thanks to him.”

Oriya shrugged. “What he does is not my concern.”

“So you keep saying.” The death god’s eyes burned. “For how long will the gods suffer one such as you to walk this earth? Renounce your wickedness.”

“Renounce my friend, you mean.”

“The day that the gods retract their favour might come sooner than you think. Mend your ways before it is too late.”

Orya smirked. “When that day comes, I’ll deal with it.”

The death god bowed his head slightly. “When that day comes, remember that I warned you.”

“Who knows, I might,” Oriya smiled and leaned back, letting the sun warm him. Damn Muraki; why couldn’t he just enjoy this second chance he’d been given? He’d thought he’d stopped after that murder on the eve of his wedding. The warmth of the sun did not stop his shivering. Damn Muraki. And damn Oriya too, for not being able to do anything. 

A moment later he stood up. One more thing on his list, and then he could go back. Back where his heart was. 

&*&*

Last but not least was a visit to Feilong’s ancestral home. Oriya had been so stupidly curious to see Feilong’s house the first time he’d visited him, and after that so stupid to keep coming. No need to visit the grave of Feilong’s father; the man was still lingering at home, refusing to move. Each time Oriya hoped he would find the spirit of Feilong’s father gone, and each time he left disappointed. Each time Oriya asked the same thing of him, and each time he got the same answer. 

So, he burned some more joss sticks and lit more candles in the room while Feilong’s father watched him with a mixture of curiosity and eagerness.

“You should move on,” Oriya told him when he was done. “I can call a death god, if you want. He won’t appreciate it, because I don’t think he likes me, but he will come.”

“I don’t need to move on. I’m fine here.” He pushed a chair in the middle of the room. “Sit.”

Oriya did. 

“How is my son?”

“He is well. Governing his empire.”

“Good. How is he?”

“Healthy, in body and mind.”

“Good. How is he?”

“Well. Moving on with his life.”

“That is good.”

“Shouldn’t you move on too?”

“I’m fine here.” He smiled. “Sometimes he drives by. I see him. He’s kept his hair long for me. I just want to watch him. I should have done that more when I was living.”

“He knows. He loves you. He thinks you’re happy in the afterlife.” 

“I just want to watch him.”

“He doesn’t know you watch him still. Please, for his sake, leave.” So that Feilong’s belief that his father was content in the next world and reality could be one and the same. 

“I JUST WANT TO WATCH HIM.” 

The chair broke from under Oriya’s legs. He didn’t know quite how he managed not to fall. “This house is full of dark memories for your son. Your presence makes it insufferable. Please. Leave.”

Feilong’s father pushed a cabinet across the room. “I JUST WANT TO WATCH HIM.”

Oriya sighed as he walked out of the house, ignoring the sound of moving and breaking furniture. The time that Feilong’s father stayed lucid was growing shorter each time. At the next visit he’d bring an exorcist. This had gone long enough, and sometimes he knew when to stop trying because he wasn’t up to the task.   
But at least now he could go to his other home. 

&*&*

Even with all the curiosity, the distaste, the lust, and the negative feelings emanating from Tao, coming back at Feilong’s home was better than being out in the streets. So many dead among the living. They kept latching themselves on him, curious and excited and distressed, and that stupid death god was probably too annoyed with Oriya to come collect them. It was a nuisance. Why hadn’t he become an exorcist? 

At least the painkillers he’d taken after leaving Feilong’s ancestral home had started to work by the time he was back at Feilong’s. His stomach had almost settled, his headache had lessened, and he could smile like he meant it. 

Most importantly, though, he could feel Feilong’s desire, clean and pure and uncomplicated. It stretched like a vivid, red thread from the penthouse all the way to street, twined with the pale silver thread from his little cherry tree. Guiding him home. He could follow that lifeline with his eyes closed, so bright it was. 

“I’m home,” he shouted, annoying Xu and Yang who were on guard duty downstairs. 

“They can’t hear you upstairs, you maniac,” Xu muttered.

“I know,” Oriya laughed, giving him a foam container of fresh, steamed dumplings. “For your hard work. There’re for sharing. See you later,” he waved at them heading for the elevator. 

“He’s mad,” Xu muttered as the doors closed.

“Hmmm.” Yang was already eating.

Oriya took a few deep breaths while the elevator rose higher and higher. I’m going home, he told himself. Home. A home where no one liked him but Feilong, and he’d probably drive him away with his behavior. He sighed. He should be smiling, so he forced his lips to move. By the time he was up, he even looked happy. 

The moment he saw Feilong waiting for him at the door he did feel happy. “I’m home,” he told him softly, staring at him. He gave two more containers to Wang and Li. “Thank you for your hard work.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Feilong said, indulgently. 

“I have to thank them, though? They work so hard for you.”

“They’d better,” Feilong muttered under his breath. “Come.”

Feilong guided him to his study, as if they were going to sit down and have a discussion about work or old acquaintances or the weather. Although, perhaps they should have a discussion about _some_ things, but the moment the door closed behind him, Oriya forgot all about words. He kissed Feilong hungrily.

Feilong smiled when Oriya finally let him. “I like it that you still smell of travel and street food and… incense. You really want me that much that you can’t bother to shower first.” He frowned. “I still don’t get the incense.”

“For praying.” Feilong narrowed his eyes. “Don’t ask.” 

“You,” Feilong groaned. “Please, go have a shower.”

“Later?” Oriya slid to his knees and nuzzled Feilong’s groin. His lover was already hard. “Later,” he promised, lowering Feilong’s trousers. 

Feilong leaned back against his desk. “I’ve been like this since Tao told me you were back.”

“Waiting was that hard?” Oriya laughed pushing Feilong’s cheongsam away so he could finally reach his lover’s cock. He let the garment fall back over his head, and the world was reduced to a small place where Feilong’s flesh shone like old ivory, his cock a darker shade, his smell intense and musky. 

He took a deep breath, delighting in Feilong’s scent. He trailed his fingers on his cock, teasing him, feeling Feilong jump a little. He smiled, closed his eyes and took Feilong in his mouth. He loved the feel of him. Clean, silky, smooth. He loved the warmth of him. Soothing flame. He loved the weight of him. He loved the size of him. But mostly he loved him.   
How kind you are to me, he whispered. How wondrous. How marvelous. 

Feilong came with a strangled moan. His come was hot, choking him as it rushed through his throat. He swallowed but some came back up, its taste vaguely sweet. Oh, he even loved the come of him. 

He pulled back a little and cleaned the rest of the come from the tip of Feilong’s cock with delicate, small licks. This he enjoyed too, removing the warm, slippery, sticky substance that remained. 

Feilong sighed above him. “I did miss you.” He pulled his cheongsam away, letting Oriya free. 

He blinked as he was suddenly back into the light. He sat down, licking his lips, chasing the last of Feilong’s taste. “I missed you too.”

Feilong pulled up his trousers and sat on the floor facing Oriya. “Is this because you don’t have proper beds in Japan?”

Oriya laughed. “It’s because I missed you so.” He sat up suddenly. “I used to come more often,” he told Feilong seriously.

“Yes.”

“It’s not because I care less.”

Feilong frowned. “What brought this on? You know I don’t mind. I know you have a life. And work.”

“But it makes you miserable.”

Feilong snorted. “When I was a child I used to think childish thoughts. When I became a man, I put away childish thoughts. Have you ever heard that?”

Oriya shrugged. Probably? 

“If I seem miserable it’s because you said we wanted the same things, no, that we needed them. And even though we do want the same things, we cannot have them. Not exactly, not completely, not in the way of fairytale romances, or even the way Asami and Akihito seem to have them.” He shrugged. “But that’s a child’s thought. What we have is enough.”

“Is it, though? It’s upsetting you. Tao thinks…”

“Tao is a child. He still believes in fairytales,” Feilong sighed. “I want him to, but that’s not me, Oriya.”

“But I have too many issues to pull my weight in this relationship,” Oriya admitted. Perhaps he ought to see someone about them. 

Feilong smirked. “Don’t worry. I only keep you for the sex. And that is spectacular.”

“Really?” He pretended to be offended. 

“Really. When you start humming I come like a teenager.” Feilong shook his head, smiling. “Honestly, even if I had been with A… the first person I think I loved, what would I have done? Would I have moved to Japan to be with him? At twenty, maybe. Now? Not for him. Not for you. Not for anyone. I can respect that you have similar obligations.”

“You are very wise.”

“I’m almost thirty, I ought to have learned something,” Feilong smiled. He crawled next to Oriya and pushed him down. “Now it’s time for you to show how much you appreciate my wisdom.”

“Is it? And how can I show you that?” he grinned. 

“How do you think?” Feilong slid his hand between them, and trailed his fingers over Oriya’s chest. 

Oriya pushed Feilong away. Feilong would probably be insulted if he discovered that he wasn’t even hard. “Bed.”

“Ha,” Feilong snorted, “now you remembered I have one. Fine.” He stretched and stood up as gracefully as a cat. “But then shower and dinner.”

“That sounds good.” He stood up. 

Feilong kissed him. And kissed him again. And again. Each kiss said ‘I missed you,’ and Oriya replied ‘I missed you too,’ with each of his kisses.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where there are revelations (and Oriya is being stupider than usual)

Later, much later, Feilong studied Oriya. 

“What if I asked?”

“What?”

“You know I’m worried about you, right? You walk a lot, you use public transport, half the time you go out unarmed. You don’t even let me mark you as mine.” He trailed his finger on Oriya’s wrist. “A tattoo here would protect you almost as much as a gun. Worst case scenario someone would kidnap you for ransom or revenge, but they wouldn’t kill you.” He stopped, and looked annoyed. “I have you followed, what do you think?”

“Half the time I’m aware of your men.”

“And half the time you manage to evade them. I don’t like it.”

Oriya shrugged. “I don’t like being followed.”

“Tough. Anyway,” he took out a folder and pushed it towards Oriya. “My people take photos, just in case. You hang out in the cemetery a lot. You visit my old home. There are gaps.”

“I don’t understand.”

“These,” he picked up a number of photos. Oriya recognized the cemetery gate. He didn’t like how he came out; he looked far too pale in the light. Almost like a ghost. “They told me they took them in sequence, but, in fact, these two are ten minutes apart.” Feilong spread them out on the table. “And that’s not the only time I’ve noticed that. Sometimes at the cemetery, sometimes outside my home. Sometimes in the street. Every time you visit there are gaps.”

“Perhaps your men don’t do their work well.”

“Once, maybe? Twice? Unlikely. Every time? impossible. So, will you tell me if I ask?”

“Ask what?”

“Why you pray for these random souls? Why do you pray at my father’s home and not his grave? How do you vanish for some time in front of my men?”

Oriya was silent for the longest time. He could lie, or change the topic like he usually did, but did he want that? He was tired of Feilong thinking him half-mad. Hadn’t they promised not to lie, after all? Feilong started tapping his finger on the table. 

“That’s perhaps the easiest to answer,” Oriya finally decided. “The gods I talk to like their privacy. I don’t know how they do it, but they do. It’s not freezing time, it’s more like changing the perception of others. Sometimes they put people into unnaturally deep sleep. Sometimes they make them not see what is in front of them. Magic.”

“Gods? You talk to gods.”

“Minor gods, mind you. I’ve never met one of the great ones.” 

Feilong rubbed his eyes, sighing. “You really ought to see someone about your delusions. I thought it was nothing but if you have hallucinations, maybe it’s schizophrenia. Or you’re having a psychotic break? I don’t know.”

Oriya stood up. “You’re wonderfully rational, but I’m fine.” He poured a glass of whisky for Feilong, and another for himself. “Here.”

Feilong stared at it, frowning. Then he took a sip. He made a face. “Fine?” he snorted. “You talk to gods? Who like their privacy?” He drank some more, grimaced again, and put it away.

Oriya sat facing him, knees touching. He was happy that Feilong did not move away from him. “There’s this me,” he said drinking a little, savouring the smoky peat flavour, “in the dark world of water. The world of whores, of blackmail, of secrets. The world of the flesh. And there’s this me in the world of spirits.” He took a longer sip, feeling it burn as he swallowed too quickly. “The world of dead people, and minor gods, and things best left alone. Why do you think Father calls me an unnatural monster? Because I refuse to get married, or because I ignore my customers?” He smirked. 

“Sorry, I can’t…”

“Do you want me to prove it to you?”

“Can you call a god?” Feilong rolled his eyes. “Right.”

“Not here. I’ve had your house warded. Well, Akane-san did it. You’ve met her. She’s my exorcist.”

Feilong reached for the whisky and took a long, even if he immediately started coughing. “Fucking hell, what did you give me this time?”

“Laphroaig.”

“Tastes like someone took rubbing alcohol, and mixed it with wet swamp mud and iodine.”

Oriya grinned. “People usually call it ‘medicinal’.”

“It’s horrible. You can drink the whole bottle yourself. Give me another.”

Feilong did prefer sweeter, smoother flavours after all. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He got up, poured Feilong a safe, fruity Glenmorangie, and gave it to him. “Try this.”

Feilong smelled it. “This is more promising.” He tried it. “Yes, much better. So, you’ve warded my house?” He looked and sounded skeptical. 

“Yes.”

Feilong finished his drink in one go. “Alright, fine, let’s go somewhere else. Where you can prove to me what you are. And when you can’t, I’ll call my doctor so he can refer you to a specialist. Deal?”

Oriya smiled. “Deal.” He started towards the door.

“At least take a gun,” Feilong muttered behind him.

“Oh, yes, I should.” 

Feilong sighed. “Crazy and careless. Where did I find him? And why do I keep him?”

&*&*

Feilong’s eyes widened when he saw the mess that was his father’s favourite room. “What have you been doing here? Breaking my furniture?”

Oriya ignored him. While Feilong inspected the damages he lit up some sticks and prayed for the soul of Feilong’s father. 

“He’s here,” the old man whispered. “So beautiful still,” he said, touching Feilong’s hair. 

Feilong shivered.

His father caressed him on the cheek. “My dutiful one.”

Feilong looked around. His gaze settled on Oriya. “Did you say something?”

Oriya shook his head watching Feilong’s father circle his son. Perhaps this was a bad idea. 

“Hm.” Feilong picked up an old frame from the floor. “Hm, so this was left here.” He showed Oriya a photograph. “Me and my brother.”

“You don’t look like him,” Oriya said.

“You’re nothing like him,” Feilong’s father said. 

Feilong blinked. “So, now what?”

“Do you want to say anything to your father? He’s here.”

“Nice trick.” Feilong looked disappointed. He started towards the door. The open door that Feilong’s father slammed shut. Feilong stared, shrugged, and took another step. 

This time Feilong’s father pushed a table against the door. “Stay.”

“He says you should stay.”

Feilong turned around, bewildered. “Where?”

“In front of you.”

“Father?” He shook his head. “No, you’ve done something,” he told Oriya angrily. “What did you do? How did you make the table move? Hidden ropes?”

“STAY.” Feilong’s father pushed Feilong down. 

Oriya bit his lips. “Do you still think I’m doing this?”

“But Father loved me. Why would he do that?” Feilong’s voice was suddenly small, not scared, but confused. 

“Because he loves you still.”

“My dutiful son, my true son, my only son,” the spirit was chanting caressing Feilong’s hair, and making Feilong shiver in response. “Stay with me.”

“It feels cold,” Feilong told him, more in control of himself. 

“Spirits often do.” This was more than a bad idea. It was a stupid one. “Maybe we should go,” he said, standing up. 

Feilong shook his head. “I... No, this is…” He started.

The spirit of Feilong’s father grew more luminous, and pushed Feilong down. “MY SON. STAY.”

Feilong froze. “Father?” He stared at the spirit with wide eyes. “Father?”

“STAY, FEILONG.”

“Father, I can’t. You know I…”

Feilong’s father extended his hands, reaching for Feilong’s neck. “STAY. WITH. ME.” He started choking Feilong, who tried to fight back but his hands couldn’t grasp anything. 

Oriya had no idea what he was supposed to be doing, but had to do something. “ENOUGH.” He unsheathed his sword and slashed at the spirit.   
He flickered when the blade passed through him, and let go of Feilong. He turned towards Oriya. 

“BEGONE,” he willed it, putting all his energy into sending Feilong’s father in the other world, imagining his power as a light that would push the old man away, since he refused to go quietly.

Feilong’s father let out a scream as he became as bright as the sun for a moment, and then burst into a thousand gleaming wisps that slowly burned out one by one. It was almost beautiful, but Oriya had other concerns. 

Oriya rushed to Feilong’s side and hugged him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Feilong hugged him back. “What was that?”

“Your father’s ghost.”

“But why?”

Oriya shrugged. “Ghosts can be like that. They stay because they love or hate and then become twisted things. Well, not all of them, but most of them are a nuisance.”

Feilong blinked. “You’re not delusional.”

“No.”

Feilong picked himself up, and put some distance between him and Oriya. He frowned, looking around him. “I shouldn’t have asked,” he finally said. “Why didn’t you lie to me?”

“We promised. No lies.”

Feilong glared at him. “You could have lied to me about this.” 

“Whenever I changed the subject you looked at me like you knew I was lying. What was I supposed to do after all this time?” 

Feilong moved towards the door. Oriya followed him. Together they pushed the table away.

“You could have pretended you were normal.”

That stung. “I tried. And if you haven’t had me followed it would have worked.”

“So now it’s my fault?”

Oriya shrugged. People saw only what they wanted to see, whenever they didn’t bother to look closely. It had worked for Ukyou for years.

Feilong stayed silent until he reached the car. “Well, are you coming?”

“I thought…” you didn’t want me anymore. Feilong’s thoughts were suddenly closed to him, as if Feilong had suddenly learned how to protect himself. 

“What will you do? Walk to the airport? Take a taxi? Do you even have money with you?”

Oriya frowned. Did he?

“Get in.” Feilong slid inside the car and stayed silent for the whole ride.

Oriya couldn’t blame him. It was probably a lot to take in, especially since Feilong had never really believed him when he kept telling him he was different. But perhaps he could have handled things differently. Not expose him to that sick, needy thing his father had become. Perhaps he could have asked a death god to come visit? 

“My house is warded, you said?” Feilong suddenly asked as they parked. 

“Yes.”

Feilong frowned. He stayed silent until they were inside his penthouse. 

“Fei-sama,” Tao greeted him when they entered. “Fei-sama? Are you alright?” He glared at Oriya. “I’ll make you some tea.”

“No need, Tao. Why don’t you go rest?”

“Erm…” Tao looked down, where he was drawing little circles on the carpet with his foot. 

“Tao? What happened?”

“Well….” He glanced at Oriya. “Oriya-sama’s cat is gone. I only let her alone for a moment, but when I came back…”

“She’ll be back,” Oriya assured him. Had probably gone out to find him. “Don’t worry.”

“But what if she got lost? I wanted to go search for her, but you’d told me to stay inside, Fei-sama, so I did, but…”

“She’ll find her way home,” Oriya said again. 

Feilong looked at him strangely. “Tao, don’t worry. We’ll look for her tomorrow, if she hasn’t shown up by then. Get some rest. Oriya will make me tea, right?”

Oriya nodded. 

Feilong followed Oriya in the kitchen. “So, the house is warded.”

“Yes.” Something like… chamomile? Oh, and rose petals, that might work. He’d have some himself too. He started brewing the water.

“And outside?”

“I doubt anything will attack you.”

Feilong glared at him. 

“Your father had become fixated on you. You were a natural target for him.”

“And you took me to him.”

“You wanted proof.” He poured some hot water in the teapot. “And I was stupid. I should have expected that he would attack you.”

“But you didn’t think he would.”

“No, I just thought you wanted proof and since he was the most active spirit I knew, it made sense that he would do something while you were in the house. I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t think things through. I was stupid, and took a stupid risk.”

Feilong let his head drop on the table. 

Oriya emptied the teapot, put the strainer with the herbs in and filled it again. He sat down facing Feilong. “I really am sorry. That was stupid of me.”

There was a knock on the door. A moment later Tao spoke. “Fei-sama? There’s someone downstairs who wants to speak to Oriya-sama.”

“Let him in.”

“He says Oriya-sama must come down.”

Feilong looked up. “Does this mean..?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oriya, we’re going down. Now.” Feilong grabbed him by the hand and led him to the elevator. 

The same death god that had found him at the cemetery was waiting for him outside Feilong’s building. He had his cat in his hands. He glanced at Feilong and grimaced for a second. “Liu-dono.”

Feilong nodded, frowning. 

“Mibu-dono,” the death god said, bowing a little, “please remember that when you put up wards, you keep friendly spirits out as well.”

Feilong frowned.

The death god looked at the cat. “She was quite annoyed that she couldn’t get into Liu-dono’s house. This one, or the other.” He smiled. “So was I. I could have handled that better.”

“I’m sorry. May I?”

He handed the cat to Oriya. She hissed at him, squirmed a little, but soon settled in his arms and allowed him to pet her. “Thank you. I’m sorry,” he bowed to the death god. “That was stupid of me.”

“Yes, it was.” The death god studied him. “Su, Hong Kong Division,” he finally said. “Stupid or not, it worked. Liu is where he should be now. Thank you.”

Oriya shrugged. 

Su reached for his pocket. Feilong tensed beside him, and so did his cat. He took out a small velvet pouch. “Please accept this.”

“What is it?” 

“Tea and herbs.” Su gave him a disapproving look. “You could have been hurt, or worse. This should help with your recovery. You spent a lot of energy tonight.” 

“I was very stupid tonight. Thank you.” He took the pouch. 

“Liu-sama, I have brought this for you, should you wish to forget tonight,” Su said with a kind expression offering him another pouch.

“And if I don’t?”

“Mortals do better when they think there is only one world.” 

“No, thank you. Knowledge is power, don’t they say?” He even smiled a little.

“As you wish. Then I wish you a pleasant evening,” he smiled and vanished. The pouch was left on the ground.

Feilong frowned. He picked it up and opened it. A small, round red fruit. “Tea should be ready by now. Let’s go back to the house.”

“Feilong?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

Feilong shrugged. “I want no lies between us either. You are who you are. Do Muraki and Ukyou know? Your staff?”

“My staff, yes. Father’s people too. Father has powers too, but he uses them for profit. He manipulates people, twists them to his will. I despise that.” He smiled. “Ukyou has too many problems herself to notice, and Muraki knows everything.”

Feilong snorted. “Of course he would.”

Oriya smiled. Muraki had been a good person once. 

They stayed silent for the rest of the way to the house. Once inside his cat twisted away from his arms, hissed at him and went straight for Tao’s room. Feilong went straight to the kitchen and poured himself some of the tea Oriya had prepared earlier. 

“I think I’ll go to bed,” he said after the first sip. 

“Yes, of course.”

“Will you join me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I shouldn’t,” Feilong smiled, wondering. “But I do.” He gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t be late.”

Oriya went to his room first. One wall had been dedicated to the music instruments he had bought during the year. He studied them. What had he been thinking? He picked up the shamisen in the end. The one he’d brought from home months ago. And his notebook; the one he never left home without. 

Feilong turned towards him when he walked into his bedroom. “What?” He smiled. “Think that will help?”

“Maybe. I just need to say I’m sorry.” He moved a lamp to the floor where its light wouldn’t bother Feilong too much, and adjusted the brightness to low enough that he could see the notes. 

Feilong closed his eyes. “Again,” he muttered, fluffing his pillow. “Seriously. What is it you say? It can’t be helped?”

Oriya shook his head. He tuned his instrument. Satisfied, he started playing, softly, ever so softly. A gentle song about longing, and loving, and admiring. Perhaps more longing, in his case, the way he’d decided to adapt it. He’d been missing Feilong so much. 

“What is it with Japanese men comparing me with flowers?” Feilong muttered when Oriya finished. “I prefer you calling me a jasmine though,” he smiled. 

“You didn’t like it.”

“I did.” Feilong sat up a little. “Play something else.”

“You’ll recognize this one too,” he said. This was even slower than Jasmine, as he’d missed Feilong even more when he’d arranged it. Besides, the song appealed to him. He liked how it was about a seemingly impossible love, and he preferred to think that in the end the lovers had lived happily ever after, instead of dying together – as one legend had it. Or that, as another version went, the girl had stayed with her ugly husband, not taking a chance. 

The song was so ambiguous as it was, and that attracted him. All his time with Feilong felt unreal. He’d taken a chance, but it wasn’t enough, neither for him, nor Feilong. Would he fight for him? Or would he choose that place of living death? Was there even a choice for him? Only in music, perhaps. 

“Spend our lives together forever,” Feilong said softly. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“It would.”

“Is that what you do when you miss me? You mess up our great Chinese heritage? Your playing was slow.”

“It was meant to be slow.”

“It was so slow that if these pieces didn’t mean so much you’d have put me to sleep,” Feilong grinned. He lied down again. “So, do what you came to do. Sing me to sleep. Drive away the horrid things that live in the night with music. Do it.”

Feilong had understood his intention so perfectly that Oriya smiled. “You don’t appreciate my art.”

“You don’t appreciate Chinese music.”

“I do. But it’s three in the morning and I am trying to get you to sleep. I’m not going to play it like,” he put his shamisen away lest he be tempted to play it exactly as Feilong demanded and then wake up everyone. “Tomorrow.”

“It already is tomorrow.” 

“Well, then, later today I will play it for you faster. And louder.”

“Okay, I’ll wait for that.” He yawned. “I can’t decide if I should make some coffee and stay up, or go to sleep.”

“Sleep.”

“Either sing to me, or join me,” Feilong commanded. 

Oriya picked up his shamisen again. “I’ll play for you.” He tuned the shamisen again. 

Feilong closed his eyes. 

For most people Oriya played this piece because they paid dearly for experiencing tradition for a while. For Feilong he played it because he wished it were true. Who was the constant one, and who the indecisive one between them? He didn’t know. But he wanted to believe that their fates would be bound together for a thousand ages. 

By the time he’d finished the song, Feilong was asleep. Oriya stayed where he was, not wanting to disturb him. He looked so peaceful. He turned the light off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Feilong deals with things surprisingly well

Feilong woke up feeling ravenous. He stretched. Alone again. He frowned. Turned around. Alone in the room as well. Oriya wouldn’t walk out on him in the middle of the night without talking to him first, would he? He crushed the thought. He was probably downstairs or outside or…

“I brought you breakfast,” Oriya said as he opened the door. “Good morning.”

Or there, he smiled. “Morning.” He sat up. “What time is it?”

“A little after ten.”

“Oh.” He pushed his hair away from his face and rubbed his eyes. “It feels earlier.”

“You should have slept longer,” Oriya smiled as he put the tray down. “You can sleep longer.”

“No.” He drank some tea. “You know what I feel like having? Scrambled eggs. With toast. Not congee.”

“This is better for the stomach after a late night.”

“You have it then.” He pushed the tray aside and stood up. “Can you tell Tao to come and find something for me to wear? Let’s have brunch. Outside.”

“Together?”

“Of course. I’ll go have a bath. Feel free to join me.”

Oriya’s eyes widened. He ran outside screaming. “Tao, Tao?”

Feilong smiled. Yes, he was keeping him definitely for the sex and the entertainment value. Because everything else… He sighed. He didn’t want to think about what had happened last night, but a glance at the mirror showed him that there were finger-shaped bruises around his neck. “I wish it had been a dream.”

His stomach rumbled, uncaring about how his view of the world had shifted. A body was such a strange thing; whenever you thought you were its master, it turned around and did its own thing. Kept needing maintenance, regardless of whether you felt like giving up or not. 

Not that he felt that. He was no wilting flower, and seeing his father _like that_ had not been traumatic. It had been strange, and confusing, and so very disappointing to be across him, see him, feel him, hear him, and yet not be able to talk to him. He’d still missed him, even after all those years, and there had been times where he wanted nothing but to talk to him one more time. How disappointing that this was what Father had become. How sad. 

He turned the water on.

“Can I come in?” Oriya asked from behind the door. 

“Yes.” 

Oriya came in, closed the door behind him and stared at him. 

“You like what you see,” he smirked.

“Always.”

Feilong knew he was pretty, even at this age. He knew how some men looked at him, and what they wanted from him. He usually didn’t like it, but it was different when Oriya did it. He didn’t feel lusted after, he felt desired. For this feeling he couldn’t let him go.

Oriya removed his robe, and hung it on a hook. They were almost the same height, yet Oriya was slightly bulkier than him. More muscled. Naked, he looked powerful. And he was all his. It made Feilong feel powerful in a way that had nothing to do with money or violence. 

Oriya touched the bruises on his neck with such tenderness that Feilong shivered. “I’m so sorry,” he said. 

“So you keep saying.”

“It’s the truth.”

You should make it up to me, he almost said, but held his tongue. Oriya felt so guilty he’d do whatever Feilong asked of him, and that was too great a power. He didn’t want to abuse it. “Well,” he sighed, knowing that he’d just let slip the only true opportunity he’d had in over a year to _really_ tie him to his bed, “I like the truth as well. And, frankly,” he smiled, “it’s a relief to know that you’re not crazy. Just different.”

Feilong glimpsed a smile before he was pushed back against the shower wall and Oriya covered his mouth with his. What a rush it was, to stand under the hot spray of water while being held, while being kissed, while being worshipped. How he enjoyed satisfying Oriya’s oral fixation, he laughed as he came. 

Oriya blinked water out of his eyes, and laughed with him. 

&*&*

Later, much later, after Oriya had washed him and rinsed him and massaged him as he rubbed camellia oil over his skin and hair, and they were finally enjoying the best scrambled eggs in Feilong’s opinion, Feilong decided to ask. “So, what else can you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Can you read thoughts?”

“No, not usually. Sometimes, I do, but… no, that’s my father’s thing. Why do you think I didn’t want you to meet him? One look at you and he _knows_.” Oriya shivered. 

Feilong shrugged. “So, that means he knows that we basically spend all our time having sex? He knows you’re an adult, right?”

“He’s my father,” Oriya hissed. “It’s embarrassing.”

Feilong laughed. “It would be more embarrassing if you weren’t having sex at your age.”

Oriya’s cheeks reddened. “I usually don’t.”

“Don’t tell me you were a virgin before me?” he smirked. 

“No, of course not,” Oriya’s blush spread to his whole face and neck. “But it had been a while.”

Feilong took pity on him. “Well, that happens.” He stood up, suddenly serious. “Come, I want you to check something for me. I have this warehouse where I keep things.”

“And?” Oriya narrowed his eyes. “What kind of things?”

“Things,” Feilong grinned, walking towards his car. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. But every now and then I keep other … things, and there have been a few… accidents with those in the past.”

“You want me to check if your warehouse is haunted?” He didn’t sound pleased. 

“Yes.” Feilong stared at him. “You let me see what vengeful ghosts are capable of. I don’t want to have other ghosts around me, or my men. If any are there, that is.” And If Oriya refused, then he’d guilt trip him. 

“Ah, I see,” Oriya nodded. “Yes, you’re right.” He looked at him earnestly. “But afterwards, can you please try not to have any more accidents?”

“Sometimes it can’t be helped.” 

“Still,” he sighed, grimacing, opening the car door for Feilong, “I don’t want to think you care so little for some people’s lives. Not when you can care so much for others.”

Feilong shrugged. He waited until Oriya was seated next to him. “Sometimes that’s the only way to protect those you care about.”

“I don’t like it,” Oriya said sounding almost like a petulant child. “There should be other ways of protecting your loved ones.”

“Sometimes there aren’t. In any case, you knew what I was before you met me. Don’t ask me to be something else because it insults your sensibilities.”

Oriya frowned. “I’m not asking you to be something else. I’m asking you to be true to your considerate self.”

Feilong kissed him. Only three people in the world saw him as a good person first, and then as a triad leader or anything else. Oriya was one of them. “Don’t ever change,” he whispered. 

Oriya looked at him confused. “I’m too old to change.”

Feilong kissed him again. Silly Oriya. 

&*&*

After the warehouse Feilong took Oriya in all his other houses and hideaways. Ghost tracing was an excuse, he realized half-way through. No, what he really wanted was to show Oriya who he was. To show him his men, to make him understand the extent of his business and his responsibilities. And after that tour of Hong Kong sights, Feilong took him to all the places he’d killed people. To show him his dark world.

If Oriya had shown him who he was, Feilong could do no less. 

“I should pray for you more,” was all Oriya said when they retuned back home. And, “I’m surprised you find time to visit me, you are a very busy man.”

“If I do, shouldn’t you find more time for me too?” He asked softly.

“I guess I should. I’m sorry.” 

“Stop saying that. I respect you have obligations. Just make more time for me,” he smiled.

“My schedule is free for the next … you know what? I’ll call them home and tell them I’ll be late.”

Feilong gave him the phone. “Great,” he smiled, pressing the speed dial. 

Oriya smiled at him. “I’m honoured,” he said while waiting for the call to be picked up. “Oh, hello. Can I speak to Tami-san?... Yes, I’ll wait.” He rolled his eyes. “She’s somewhere in the house,” he muttered. “Oh, Tami-san. So good to hear you. … Yes, I’m fine. Kind of. That’s why I’m calling you, actually.” He glanced at Feilong, winking. “I’m not exactly well. I did something that has had some negative effect on me, so now I need to take some time off and rest…. No, I’m not ill, but what I did has left me weak and sick and I don’t think I can travel…. Yes, I’m taking some herbal medication…. It has ginger and cinnamon and lavender and I don’t know what else…. No, I haven’t seen a doctor. The cause of my illness is not physical…. Stop worrying, I just need to rest a bit, and I’ll be fine.” He rolled his eyes again. “She’s so fussy,” he mouthed at Feilong. “I swear, it’s not something to worry about, just something that has left me very exhausted. It’s best I stay here until my energy is restored…. No, nothing like that… You worry too much, Tami-san,” he smiled. “Kokakurou will survive if I take one more a week off, won’t it? … Look, if he is willing to pay a hundred thousand just for me to make him tea, he can wait for a week, or two….” He smiled while Tami-san kept talking. “Yes, yes, thank you, Tami-san,” he sighed, “you really are the best. Thank you. I’ll see you soon.” He hung up, sighing again deeply. “She really worries too much.”

“Do people really pay you a hundred thousand to make them tea?”

“Yes. Usually they pay less, as I charge by the minute and people don’t want to have tea for an hour. They want to move on to dinner. But, this particular person will pay more if he has to wait,” Oriya smiled slowly. 

Feilong laughed. “It’s a good thing you don’t charge me for tea, or anything else, then. You’d probably bankrupt me at some point.”

“I probably would,” Oriya said indulgently, lowering himself on the bed. He started unbuttoning his shirt, and spread his legs a little. 

“Oh, you definitely would,” Feilong said, falling over him. He cupped Oriya’s groin, and frowned. “You’re not hard. Again. Or you thought I didn’t notice yesterday? I just thought you were tired from the journey.”

Oriya nodded. “I was, and now I am exhausted. I don’t think I can… rise to the occasion,” He grinned and pulled Feilong down for a deep, long, aggressive kiss, all teeth and tongue. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.” He kissed Feilong again, slowly, all sweetness and softness this time, nothing but lips and a barely teasing tongue. “Use me as you will.”

Feilong thought his heart would burst. “Exactly as I wish?”

“Yes.” Oriya looked at him with such trust and desire. More than a year later and he still treated each moment between them like a gift. 

Feilong settled in the cradle of Oriya’s body. Oriya held him lightly, one hand cradling his head, the other stroking his back, and he rocked himself against him, doing nothing but kissing him until his lips felt bruised and tender. 

“I want to fuck you,” he whispered, and Oriya spread his legs further in response, smiling at him. 

With Oriya’s help it took a minute to get rid of Oriya’s clothes. He stayed dressed, taking only his cock out, that felt so hot and hard in his hand that Feilong wondered if it had turned to steel inside velvet.

Oriya smirked. “Power games,” he laughed, starting to turn around. “I like them.”

“No, stay,” he said. He took out the bottle of lube from the nightstand and passed it to Oriya. “Prepare yourself.”

Oriya sat up, leaning on one elbow. “Like this, or do you want me to turn?”

“Like this. I want to watch your expression as it becomes hungry.”

Oriya blushed.

“And the way your cheeks burn. You still find it strange to submit to a man?”

“More like,” Oriya pressed his index finger inside him, and he sighed, “embarrassing. That you see me like this.” His blush spread further down, a fire under porcelain cover. 

“But you like it,” Feilong smiled. 

“I do,” Oriya agreed, and pressed a second finger inside him. He moaned, shifting his hips to accommodate his stretching fingers. “I think I’m ready.” 

Two fingers only? It would be a tight fuck. Good for him, but… “I’m not sure. It might hurt.”

“Perhaps I want it to?” Oriya looked innocently at him, but his breathing was faster, and his body was undulating as he still stretched himself. He moved slightly back, so that Feilong could kneel on the bed. “Please?” 

Feilong grinned. “Since you ask so prettily.” He knelt between Oriya’s legs. “Ride me.”

Oriya took his fingers out, and sat up in one smooth motion. He poured lube on Feilong’s cock, staring at him with a tender expression. “I thought you wanted to tie me to the bed.”

“Later.” Much later, when Oriya would be fine with it.

The lube was cool, but Oriya’s fingers spreading it on him were warm. His body, when he slid down on Feilong, was even warmer. It was tight too, but not as tight as the way that Feilong’s stomach felt knotted over when Oriya closed his eyes and sighed contented when Feilong was fully inside him. 

Oriya hugged him, and rocked himself on Feilong. “Want me to move?”

“No.” It felt nice to let his desire build up with every small motion. “This is how you really dance,” he suddenly smiled, holding Oriya’s hips, feeling him move under his hands. 

“This is what you’ve taught me to dance,” Oriya said with an even softer expression. He kissed the tip of his nose. 

“Maybe it’s time you moved. Faster. Ah, screw this.” Feilong pushed Oriya down, delighting in the way he laughed as he fell. He pulled back and then pushed himself, repeating his thrusts and moving faster and faster, wanting to bury himself completely inside his lover, wanting to claim him completely. 

Oriya wrapped his legs around Feilong’s waist, urging him on. When he tried to stroke Feilong’s hair, Feilong took his hand in his. And then the other, pinning him down completely. Which didn’t stop Oriya from lifting himself up and almost folding himself in two just so he could kiss him.

Feilong closed his eyes and lost himself in the rhythm of their bodies, the feel of Oriya’s fingers entwined with his, the smell of his sweat, the scorching heat of him. His desire built to a rolling wave inside him; his come was only the physical manifestation of that feeling that sprang forth from a single part of him. 

He collapsed on Oriya, tired but happy. He stayed still as Oriya pulled a blanket over him and stroked his hair. He opened his eyes to find Oriya staring at him, smiling at him, wanting him. He closed his eyes again, listening to Oriya’s heartbeat slow down. The knot inside him unraveled just as slowly. 

&*&*

Feilong woke up to the quiet sound of music. “You’re exhausted, and I’m the one who had a nap?” he smiled. 

“You did all the work, though,” Oriya smiled back. 

“Hm, so I did,” he grinned smugly. “Hm, waking me up with music. I like it. You should do it every time. What are you playing?”

“Outside the bamboo screen.”

Feilong made a face. “You promised to play me Lanhuahua. Properly,” he grinned. “You know, with the parts that the song comes alive. Even in the slower versions, the last part is lively. Where her lover asks her to join him.” He leaned back while Oriya removed something from the shamisen. “What’s that?” 

“Mutes. To dampen the sound.” He took out a sheet with something scribbled on and out it down in front of him.

“I guess if it can be arranged to be played by piano, or a string quarter, or an orchestra, then it can be played by a shamisen,” Feilong muttered while Oriya tuned his instrument. 

Oriya grinned. “You’ll be the judge of that.”

It sounded a little strange, but he could follow the melody. The beginning was slow, as it should be, and Oriya was playing it very quietly. More Wang Lisan than folk song. But not bad. It was sadder than what Oriya had played for him the night before. Perhaps because there was also a droning sound? 

Oriya continued with his delicate playing, but the melody grew in complexity. Together with the few basic high-pitched notes, there were now several lower ones that made the piece even darker. 

Oriya looked at him, smirking, and brought the plectrum down on the body of the shamisen. The sound was loud and sudden. He did it again, faster, and faster, while he focused only on the high notes. It was disconcerting and stressful. 

Just as suddenly he stopped and returned to his quiet playing, focusing on the low notes this time. It was even more mournful, Feilong decided. Is that what you think? That they died in the end? There is no hope for love? 

Oriya moved on to another piece seamlessly. He plucked the strings so delicately, it sounded like raindrops. He kept playing for a while, until the gentle rain became a storm, with some particularly aggressive and violent striking down of the plectrum that sounded like small thunder. He played until one of the strings broke, and Oriya blinked. 

Feilong snorted. “You don’t play like that for your customers, do you?”

“No.” He frowned. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided.”

“What?”

“Whether Lanhuahua died together with her lover or not. Isn’t that what you asked me?”

Feilong grinned slowly. “You’re so coming with me at tomorrow’s meeting with my partners.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t ask out loud,” he smiled. “But you answered anyway.”

“Oh. It might not work with others.”

“It is worth a try, though, isn’t it?” 

Oriya shrugged. “I doubt it will work,” he continued. 

“Maybe I should take your father, then,” he laughed. “That will work.” 

Oriya groaned. 

“Speaking of whom,” Feilong said as he got out of bed. He ought to change clothes. “Why does he think you’re strange, when he’s also not normal?”

“Please, if you ever meet him again, have that thought!”

“It’s not that funny, stop laughing!”

“It is because I keep imagining the expression he’ll make when he hears you.”

Feilong shook his head, smiling. Whatever. “In or out for dinner?”

“What do you want?”

Naked sushi. The thought came unbidden out of nowhere. Oriya blushed. Feilong laughed. “I think you know what I want.” He kept laughing. “Your expression. No, you won’t be the model. I’m not asking you to dinner so I can eat off you. Though that has some appeal.”

Oriya made a face. “No, I don’t feel like naked sushi. We sometimes serve it and I don’t understand it. I like dead fish on a plate.”

“Maybe I’ll arrange a naked sushi feast for my men. They would like that.”

“Save it for a celebration.”

“As a reward for their hard work?”

“Give them a bonus. Or something.”

Still, the thought wouldn’t leave him alone. “I’ll arrange it. We can watch.”

Oriya smiled. “Sounds good.” He grabbed Feilong’s ankle as he passed next to him. “Kiss?”

Feilong bent down and kissed him on the top of his forehead. Oriya made a face. He kissed him again, on the tip of the nose. Oriya looked really frustrated. He finally kissed him on the mouth, a soft, fleeting kiss. Oriya smiled.

“You should change. We’re going out.” It was such a beautiful evening, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Tao has a couple of good points to make

Tao glared at Oriya-sama the moment he stepped out of Feilong’s bedroom. 

His cat immediately stopped winding herself around his feet and ran to her owner. Oriya-sam picked her up, and started scratching her behind the ears, looking at her fondly as she looked up at him. She started purring loudly.

Tao felt betrayed by the animal for a moment, but that was stupid. He glared at Oriya-sama again. “I should be fetching Fei-sama’s breakfast.”

“True. But I want to do it.”

“It’s not your place,” Tao said stubbornly. That was his job. “Oriya-sama,” he remembered a second later. 

“Please, drop the ‘sama’ when you talk to me,” Oriya-sama sighed, as he always did whenever he made that request of Tao.

Tao shook his head. This was yet another reason Oriya-sama was not good for Fei-sama. He didn’t know his place. Some day, he’d make Fei-sama forget his place and act in an undignified manner, and his enemies would notice and…

Oriya-sama sighed again. His cat twisted in his arms and presented her belly. She never did that for Tao. “If that is so important to you, you can fetch his breakfast today,” he said, petting her soft stomach.

Tao grimaced. He hated having Oriya-sama’s permission to do the things that were his job anyway. “And any other day.”

Oriya-sama studied him. “And any other day,” he finally said, passed by Tao, and went to his room. 

Tao frowned. Perhaps he had been harsh. Oriya-sama was only in Hong Kong for a few days every month… but no, it wouldn’t do. Oriya-sama kept Fei-sama isolated and away from his people enough as it was. Not to mention how he made Fei-sama go to Japan almost every month. It wasn’t good for Fei-sama to be away that much.

He went to the kitchen to get Fei-sama’s breakfast. 

When he came back, he found Oriya-sama back in Fei-sama’s bedroom. Fei-sama was still in bed, reading, and Oriya-sama was sitting on the floor, playing something very quietly. Fei-sama put the book down the moment Tao walked into the room. Oriya stopped playing. 

He frowned for just a second, and then he smiled widely. “Fei-sama. Your breakfast.”

“Thank you, Tao.” Fei-sama smiled at him. “Oriya, have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, I was thinking of going out and having something seriously bad for my health, like fried doughnuts. Perhaps Tao can guide me, point me to the direction of good street food?”

Fei-sama grinned. “An excellent idea. Although you really are doing this just to avoid coming with me to the meeting, aren’t you?”

“Maybe?”

Tao frowned. He knew what Oriya-sama was to Fei-sama, but even after all this time it was still difficult to watch him being so … disrespectful towards Fei-sama. And Fei-sama wanted to take him to one of his work meetings? This would not do. “I will do my best,” he shouted. 

Fei-sama ruffled Tao’s hair. “Thank you, Tao.” He turned towards Oriya. “You will keep an eye on Tao, won’t you?”

“I don’t need,” Tao started protesting.

Fei-sama shushed him with a glance. “Tao is precious to me,” he smiled. 

Tao blushed. He moved towards the closet. “I will find your clothes for you today, Fei-sama.”

“Yes, thank you, Tao, you do that.” 

“I should get dressed too.” 

Tao heard Oriya-sama get up. He heard a soft noise, next, a small gasp, and he glanced back. They were kissing. Of course they were. 

&*&*

Tao guided Oriya-sama to what he thought were the best egg waffles in the city. They had to wait in line, but he didn’t mind. The waffles were so good, it made his mouth water just thinking about them. Even being with Oriya-sama was tolerable when he thought of the waffles. 

Waffles in hand, they moved towards the sea. Eating one of his favourite snacks, seeing the view from Victoria harbor was peaceful, and put Tao at ease. This was his city. He could almost live with the annoying man standing next to him. 

Until Oriya-sama opened his mouth, that is. “There needs to be peace between us, Tao.” 

Tao made a face. No, not really.

“It’s been over a year, Tao. I’m not going anywhere, and Feilong doesn’t seem that willing to get rid of me. We should at least be civil to each other.”

“I am civil to you in front of Fei-sama. Isn’t that enough?”

“Not really.” Oriya-sama sighed, leaning against the rail of the observation platform. “I’m tired of it, Tao. Every time I come here it’s the same story. I’m tired of your anger and your distrust. There’s no point to them, can’t you understand that?” 

“No. You’re confusing Fei-sama, you make him sad, and it gets worse every time you visit. And one day…”

“One day, what?”

“One day he’ll forget all about us because you’re twisting his mind,” he said. “Do you have any idea how hard he works every day? And then you show up and you make him forget everything.” 

“Do you honestly think that?” 

Tao nodded. 

“Tao, there’s no competition. Feilong has already chosen between me and you and Baishe.” He smiled, looking sad. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

“Where else would he be?”

“Kyoto, with me.” Oriya-sama turned away from Tao. “He’s chosen to be here. With you. With his people.”

“Maybe you should move here, then.”

“I can’t.”

“Hm. It seems to me that you’ve made your choice as well. So, you shouldn’t complain about Fei-sama’s choices. Better yet, why don’t you go back to Japan and leave him alone? At least then he wouldn’t be so sad every time you left.”

“Feilong and I have discussed that. This is the best we can do. Why can’t you respect that?”

“Because it makes Fei-sama sad. Fei-sama is a good person, he deserves to be happy all the time.”

“No one can be happy all the time.”

“Then most of the time,” Tao insisted. “If you left him alone…”

“I’m sorry, Tao, I can’t do that.” He sighed again. “If we can’t have peace, can I have your indifference at least? Think of me as a piece of furniture that moves sometimes.”

Tao frowned. “You’re weird.”

Oriya-sama shrugged. “I’m just tired.” He turned towards Tao again. “It’s a nice day, I think I’ll sit here for a while. You can go back home. I know you don’t want to be around me.”

“Will you tell Fei-sama?”

“Why? Have you told him how you feel?”

“No.”

“So, why should I? I agree that we should not involve him in this.”

“Thank you,” Tao said, and he meant it.

Oriya-sama smiled. “Everything for Fei-sama, huh?” He pushed himself away from the rail. “Let’s go back.”

“I thought you wanted to sit here.”

“If anything happens to you on the way back, I will never forgive myself. And Feilong me.”

“I don’t need protection.”

“Tough.” Oriya-sama took Tao by the hand. 

Tao hated Oriya-sama, he really did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Oriya needs to take a break (but he doesn't)

After taking Tao back home safely, Oriya returned to the harbor. Feilong was still at his meeting, and he really didn’t want to go there. Here, it was peaceful, especially on such a good day. The movement of the tourists reminded him of the sea; their words of waves, gently lulling him. 

“Good morning, Mibu-dono.”

“Good morning.” He turned to look at Su. “Why are you here? Is it time?”

Su snorted. “So direct. No, not yet.”

“Ah. Thank you.” It would have been inconvenient if he were to die in Hong Kong. Feilong would have to ship his body back home, and he didn’t want to trouble him so.

“I have a request of you. One that you cannot refuse,” Su said seriously. 

“Yes?”

“Don’t look so suspicious. My boss wants you to sing for him.” Su gave him an envelope. “He requests you play these.”

“What else?” Oriya snorted. “Fine, but I will need to practice first.”

“I will collect you in two hours.”

“That’s not even enough time for me to go get my…”

“Everything will be provided for you.”

“No, you don’t…” Su vanished before Oriya could finish protesting. Well, there was no helping it. He opened the envelope. It contained a few note sheets. “He has to be kidding me. These are ancient.” Not that he couldn’t read them; living in the past could be useful, but… “It can’t be helped,” he said again, and headed to the park.

All he needed was a fairly quiet corner, a nice view, and to not feel so stupid practicing air shamisen. 

&*&*

In exactly two hours Su came to pick him up in a limo. Exactly as he had promised, everything was provided for him when they arrived at an exclusive mansion. A bath so he could freshen up, water already drawn and at perfect temperature waiting for him after he’d finished using the bathroom and washing. New clothes, from a pair of plain, black underwear to a black kimono with a striking pattern of clouds done in silver thread. A shamisen that looked as old as the note sheets and that made a warm, sweet sound. This had been loved once. 

Su looked at him with relief. “Please, do not address my Boss directly. Do not speak to him. Do not mutter. Just do what he asks. And don’t look at him.”

“How scary is your Boss?” Oriya smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll be very professional.”

Su led Oriya to a small, empty stage. One person was sitting alone at the front row, but there were several others behind him. Yet, he understood the reason for Su’s instructions. These ‘people’ were powerful. Their energy was like a thick, bright fog inside the room. He was better off not looking at any of them.

Oriya sat down and spread out the notes in front of him. Su’s Boss stayed quiet, so a minute later he decided that if he had been summoned to play, then play he would, and if they didn’t like the order of the pieces, then, tough. He started tuning the shamisen for Iso Chidori. 

“My un …” he started, dragging the syllables and changing the pitch a little, striking once with the plectrum, “easy…” he lowered his voice a little more, one more strike, “sleep…” he struck down gently one more, “was…” 

Sliding against the white waves himself, drowning in a world of empty wishes that would not matter come morning. Being adrift and losing himself, two different but similar states. His music was the sea, and the confusion, and all the empty promises, the futile wishes. The sea was endless, and so was the pain of this world. His wavering voice the only way to express his endless tears. So much despair he couldn’t rest, his music an implacable reminder that this would pass. 

He put down the plectrum, breathing in as he listened to the vanishing reverberations of the music. Only when the sound ended completely did he exhale. During playing he hadn’t realized how the air was thicker now, the energy around him almost tangible, a warm, sticky, enveloping thing. 

The music would guide him through. Zangetsu was more difficult to play, not least because the first time he’d heard it was at his mother’s memorial service. He had barely known her, yet he still missed her. Her face was as beautiful as the moon, they had told him. “Behind…” the pines, behind the sakura, the moon was hiding, and so had she, or so they had told him. 

And Muraki had been like the moon, brilliant and shining, until he burned himself. “Departed so soon,” to leave him behind, “from this world of dreams,” in a world of dreams. And what were dreams, but broken hopes, and vague promises, and time relentless that devoured the world? Beauty was an illusion, love was pain, smiles were lies. Only time, nothing but time. Days that would come again. 

He opened his eyes when he finished. How long had he been playing the interlude between the last two verses? 

‘Mibu-dono, perhaps you can play something of your choosing?’ The voice spoke directly into his head, painless and clear.

He nodded. It was autumn and he felt his age. There was but one choice. Something he had never played for any of his customers, because he’d felt too young for it for the longest time, and then it had become too personal. Something he could offer here, where barely leashed power danced on his skin, demanding his surrendering all the things belonging to the world of dreams. “Last autumn…”

Time, it was all about time. Time was devouring him, making a mockery of the wishes he’d had when he was young. Such simple things he’d wanted, and so long he’d waited, so long, only to see that it was all pointless. And even this current affair would prove hopeless too. “The sleeves of my kimono are worn with age,” he sang, feeling each and every one of his years drag his voice down, and keep it there. 

With this weight came loneliness too, and longing for the past. Oh, he knew longing for things gone so well, that it had become a part of him, some sad, dark creature that dreamed and refused to wake up, and played his music for him. A thing inside him that took him down a narrow road that led to the junkyard of his hopes. He played for false desire, false hope, fake tears. 

“…for days long gone, when once was love and innocence.”

He stayed with his eyes closed when the piece ended. If he opened them, he feared they would burn, so strongly he felt the heat around him. Or maybe it was the heat inside him, that coiled burn inside his belly that rose to his throat and choked him when he let himself acknowledge his losses. 

“Mibu-dono?” Su’s voice was gentle. “My Boss wants to see you in private.” He gave Oriya his hand and helped him up, and then guided him out of the stage and inside the house, still holding his hand. 

Su left him in a study richly decorated in Western style. He didn’t have to wait long. Su’s Boss walked through the open door with heavy steps. Oriya glanced at him. He was not a heavy man; powerfully built, yes, but not heavy or fat. Just tall, and muscled. He looked away before his eyes reached the man’s face.

Su’s Boss sat down. “You may sit.”

“No, thank you.”

“As you wish. You have pleased me greatly. I always said that only mortals can express passion and desire properly. You’ve proved me right tonight.”

“I’m glad.”

“You may ask for a gift in return for the gift of your performance.”

“I… I have nothing to ask for.”

“Nothing?” he sounded smirking. “Then, one day I will find something suitable to return this favour. You may go.”

“Thank you.” He walked out of the study as if in a daze. 

“Well?” Su asked.

“I think it went well,” Oriya smiled. “And I’m not dead yet, am I?”

Su laughed. “No, you’re not. I’ll take you home.”

“Thank you.”

Su sighed. “Don’t waste the rest of your life protecting scumbags. Please.”

“I don’t want to discuss this.”

“I had to try.” Su led him to the limo again. “Here,” he said as he opened the door with one hand and pressing something in Oriya’s palm with the other. 

Oriya frowned. A red fruit? “Is this an order, or a request?”

“A choice.”

“Ah.”

&*&*

Tao glared at him when he walked into the house. “You know what time it is?”

“No.”

“It’s six o’clock. Fei-sama’s meeting ended at three. You’d said you’d be back by then,” Tao pointed his finger at him accusingly. “I told you before, this is not a hotel. And why are you in Japanese dress? You weren’t wearing that when you left.”

“Is Feilong worried?”

“I never told him you’d be back at three,” Tao hissed, “so, no. But you shouldn’t do that again.”

“Story of my life.”

Tao’s expression suddenly softened. “Are you okay? You look ill.”

“I’m fine,” he lied with a smile. “Thank you for not telling anything to Feilong. That was very inconsiderate of me.”

Tao shrugged. “Just don’t disappear like that again. Or at least call me when you’re going to be late.”

“Yes, you’re absolutely right. Thank you for reminding me, Tao.”

“You’re mocking me,” Tao muttered. 

Oriya shook his head. The movement made his headache worse. “Thank you for everything, Tao.”

He went to his room, took some painkillers and stripped. He smelled of incense again. He fell on the bed. Perhaps a nap would do him good. But then Feilong might worry. He rolled over, waited until his stomach stopped wanting to come out of his mouth, and then got up. By this time this break from work was over, he’d be ready for the next one.


	6. Chapter 6

How was that saying? Time passes fast when you’re having fun? It felt exactly like that to Feilong. Not that it was all fun. In the last two weeks he’d had to re-evaluate his views about this world and the next, and have Akane-san flown in so she could clean up a supernatural mess or two and find a good exorcist for him, should there be a need. He’d also realized that he should be worrying less about someone attacking Oriya, and worry more about himself: there were ghosts and death gods and monsters in this world, after all.

But the rest was fun. He liked waking up to music, especially when it was slow and sweet. He liked reading while Oriya practiced playing– mutes on, always on. He liked sparring with Oriya, as he always learned a new trick or two. He liked fucking Oriya – he offered himself when he submitted, and he was relentless when he took. The sex was always fun.

Now he’d go back to missing him. Respecting and understanding work and duty was one thing; dealing with the longing that submitting to duty caused was another. Only knowing that Oriya suffered from the same longing made his torment bearable. 

Sometimes, some dark nights, he’d thought of not letting him go, chain him as part of a sex game, and then leave him there, forever his. He’d joked about it, knowing that part of him wanted to do it in earnest. Not that he would ever do it; in the past he’d respected Oriya too much, and after these weeks he’d realized that Oriya would see right through him and foil his plans. There were some downsides to having someone who could read your thoughts as a lover, after all. 

He was obsessed, wasn’t he? But how could he not be, when the first thing he saw on his desk the day Oriya left was a CD with just one song. Something sad and slow in a foreign language with music that sounded like a gentle wind passing through bamboo reeds on a summer day. Something strange and delicate and beautiful, and on a handwritten paper was the translation of the song. 

‘Don’t forget me, even though you are far away. Ah, my love.’

How could he?


End file.
